


What Could Have Been - Alternate Ending to I Won't Love You

by KBeautimous



Series: I Won't Love You (Sam & Chrys) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Badass Original Character, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Smut, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Love, Past Drug Use, Shameless Smut, bitchy ofc, seriously so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:40:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9256088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KBeautimous/pseuds/KBeautimous
Summary: Chrys Summers has known her whole life that she's Sam Winchester's (sort of) soulmate. But when she finally finds him, he's less than thrilled to have her.OFC insert, starts S5E2, goes through storyline.**Alternate ending to I Won't Love You. Starts at Ch30 of I Won't Love You.





	1. We're in This Together

Chrys was curled up next to Sam, her head on his chest. She drew random lines on his flat, muscled stomach, listening to his heartbeat and hurting. 

His hand was running through her hair. It would have been comforting if she wasn’t so heartbroken.  


“Chrys, I’m sorry,” he rumbled softly, for the hundredth time that night.  


“I know, Sam,” she replied, also for the hundredth time that night.  


He sighed. “Chrys, I-”  


“Please stop,” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “Sam, I can’t hear you apologize again. So, just, please stop.”  


He hauled her up to rest on his chest, and she gazed down at him. His strong, handsome face, his lovely hair, his broad shoulders. His chest that had little droplets of water on it now.  _ Dammit, keep it together, Summers. _  


“Chrys, it’s okay,” he said softly, brushing the hair from her face.  


She shook her head. “No, it’s not. This isn’t helping.”  


He smiled. “Chrys, you don’t have to be so hard on yourself.”  


_ Oh, Sam. _ She thought her heart would burst with the love she had for the man beneath her. He was facing an eternity in hell, trapped in a cage with the devil, and here he was, reassuring her.  


“Sam,” she said softly, “Shut up and kiss me.”  


He examined her face for a moment, then wrapped his head around the back of her neck and pulled her close. He leaned up and met her in the middle, kissing her passionately. She sighed into his mouth and responded gently, lovingly. Tonight, she would love him.  


She pulled away and kissed her way down his neck, shuddering when his hand tightened in her hair. She kissed her way down his chest, pausing to lav each nipple with her tongue, smiling when he moaned deep in his throat.  


She moved down that muscled stomach, highlighting each ridge with teeth and tongue. She nipped at his hip bones a little harder, smiling again when he thrust up helplessly.  


She moved around his straining cock, kissing down his strong thighs. When she got there, she started at one knee and licked and nipped her way up to his inner thigh. She sucked a dark mark into him there, knowing it was unfair, unable to help herself.  _ If he’s going to hell, he’s going there marked as mine. _  


She did the same to the other leg, and when she was back up where he wanted her again, he was panting and straining, struggling to hold onto his control. She smiled, looking up possessively at all of his leashed strength and power.  _ Mmm, mine. _  


She pressed a kiss to the underside of his thick cock, moaning softly when it jumped against her lips. She gave him one long lick from base to tip, then finally took him into her mouth.  


She pulled just the tip in first, sucking hard and whirling her tongue around it. She pressed gently into the slit there, tasting his precome, whimpering at the essence of him. She slowly moved all the way down, hollowing her cheeks, until her nose was pressed against the hair there, thanking everything she could thank that a gag reflex wasn’t a problem for her.  


When breathing  _ did _ become a problem, she slowly moved up until he was barely in her mouth again. She kept up her hard suction, moving up and down, slowly increasing her pace. His big, hard hand fisted in her hair was such a turn-on, she couldn’t help the soft whimpers in the back of her throat.  


“Fuck, Chrys, please-” he begged softly, and she relished the control she had over him.  


She pulled off of him with a pop, smiling when he gasped at the feeling. She moved up his body, pressing kisses and nips here and there until she was licking the shell of his ear. “Tell me you want me,” she whispered, moving to straddle his hips and press against him.  


“I want you, Chrys, I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you, beautiful,” he said hoarsely.  


She moved up and sank down a couple of inches onto him. “Tell me I’m beautiful, Sam,” she whispered, pausing where she was.  


“You’re beautiful, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”  


She smiled and pressed a kiss to his ear. “Tell me you love me, Sammy,” she whispered, fighting the tears in her eyes.  


He turned and caught her lips with his. “I love you, Chrys,” he murmured against her mouth. “I love you so fucking much, beautiful.”  


“Then show me.”  


He wrapped an arm around her and turned so she was beneath him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and ran her hands up his stomach, sniffling and trying to stem her tears again.  


He rested his weight on one arm and used his other hand to cup her face, wiping her tears with his thumb. “Come on, baby, don’t cry,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her cheeks. “Come on, Chrys, be with me.”  


She moved her hips up and moaned. “Take me, Sam,” she said softly.  


He obliged by sinking into her slowly, lovingly. She gasped at the stretch, then cried out softly when he bottomed out. “Sam!”  


He pressed a kiss to her ear. “Shh, baby, they’ll hear you.”  


She whimpered and rolled her hips against him. “Let them hear me, Sam, please-”  


He cut her off by thrusting into her again, setting a fast pace. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear and she writhed beneath him, her nails scoring down his back.  


He shifted and moved his hand down her body, tweaking her nipple on the way down to her core. She gasped when his fingers found her clit and started slow circles.  _ “Sam!” _  


“Come for me, baby, I love you, I want to feel you come-”  


His words sent her over the edge, and she reached up and bit his shoulder, her teeth very close to the scar she had already left there. She screamed into his skin, bucking beneath him, relishing the feel of him stiffening above her as he spilled into her.  


He gasped and rolled to the side, breathing heavily, taking her with him. She buried her face in his chest, listening to his breathing slow, soaking him in, saving up the essence of him.  


She was going to need it.  


***  


The next night, they stood outside the building that Lucifer was in. Chrys could feel his power as she stood aside to let Sam say what he had to to the others gathered there.   
  
She had stayed with him during the draining of the demon blood, and during the ride there, when he made Dean promise to leave the hunting life after Sam was in the cage. She noticed that no such promise was extracted from her, but she wasn’t upset. She understood.   
  
She wasn’t making it out of this, either.   
  
She turned to see him emptying the last jug of demon blood into his mouth. She met his hazel eyes, and hated the sorrow she saw there. She walked to him and waited until he had put it down to put a hand on his face. “Sam, stop,” she said softly. “It’s a little late for apologies and puppy dog eyes.”   
  
He sighed and raised a hand to wipe his mouth, but before he could, she went on tiptoe and kissed him, blood and all. She licked it from his lips and kissed him hard. It took him a second to catch up, but catch up he did, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly.   
  
She broke away and leaned back, reaching up to wipe her mouth gently, then doing the same for him. “No more, Sam, we’re in this together, okay?”   
  
He nodded, the look on his face making her heart beat faster. “Okay, Chrys,” he said softly. “I love you.”   
  
She smiled. “I love you, too. Let’s go.”   
  
***   
  
She stood between Sam and Dean, her back straight, her head held high. For all the bad stuff, for all of the shitstorm that was what was about to happen, she was Chrysanthemum  _ Goddamn _ Summers, and she would  _ not _ cower in front of Lucifer.   
  
They walked towards the building, and Sam started shouting. “All right! We’re here, you sons of bitches! Come and fucking get it!”   
  
Three demons exited the building, and she saw Dean smile. “Hey, guys. Is your father home?”   
  
The bodyguards came forward and grabbed Sam and Dean, pulling their arms behind their backs. The third approached Chrys, but before he lay a hand on her, she cocked an eyebrow haughtily. “Think it’s a good idea to manhandle Lucifer’s bride, do you?” she asked coolly, every inch the woman that Sam and Dean had met a year ago, and not the soft mother-to-be she had become.   
  
_ Going to have to get rid of her. _   
  
She sighed and strode forward, pushing the demon out of the way. “Take us to Lucifer, idiots.”   
  
When they walked in, the free demon gestured to the stairs. Chrys led the way, and when she got to the top, she saw Lucifer there, smiling at her. “Chrysanthemum, gentlemen. How nice of you to join me.”   
  
He turned and breathed onto the window pane behind him. He started to draw a pitchfork in the condensation. “Sorry if it’s a bit chilly,” he said softly. “Most people think I burn hot. It’s actually quite the opposite.”   
  
Chrys rolled her eyes. “Cut the drama queen act, Luci. Let’s get this over with.”   
  
Lucifer turned to look at her. She winced. “You’re getting worse, Luci,” she said softly.   
  
He ignored her to look at Sam. “Help me understand something, guys. I mean, stomping through my front door is… A tad suicidal, don’t you think?”   
  
Sam shook his head. “We’re not here to fight you.”   
  
Lucifer tilted his head to the side. “No? Then why are you?”   
  
Sam took a deep breath. “I want to say yes.”   
  
Lucifer’s eyes widened, and Chrys saw the dangerous hunger there. “Excuse me?”   
  
Sam took another deep breath and closed his eyes. The three demons surrounding them dropped dead in flashes of light. The dark part of Chrys wanted Sam after the display of power, the rest of her was just tired.   
  
Lucifer was smiling. “Chock full of Ovaltine, are we?”   
  
Sam glared. “You heard me. Yes.”   
  
Lucifer sobered. “You’re serious.”   
  
“Look, Judgment Day’s a runaway train. We get it now. We just want off.”   
  
Lucifer’s eyebrows rose. “Meaning?”   
  
“Deal of the century. I give you a free ride, but when it’s all over, I live, she lives, he lives, you bring our parents back-“   
  
“Sam, stop,” Chrys said softly, examining the devil. “He’s not buying it. He knows.”   
  
Sam blinked. “What?”   
  
Lucifer clapped softly. “Good girl.” He looked at Sam. “The Horsemen’s rings? The magic keys to my cage? Ring a bell? Come on, Sam. I’ve never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect.” He waved a hand. “It’s okay, I’m not mad. A wrestling match inside your noggin… I like the idea. Just you and me, one round, no tricks. You win, you jump in the hole. I win… Well, then, I win. What do you say, Sam?” He smirked. “A fiddle of gold against your soul says I’m better than you.”   
  
Chrys rolled her eyes.  _ Drama queen. _   
  
Sam steeled himself. “So he knows. Doesn’t change anything.”   
  
Dean grabbed his arm. “Sam.”   
  
Sam shook him off. “We don’t have any other choice.”   
  
“No!” Dean snapped.   
  
Sam looked at Lucifer. “Yes.”   
  
Lucifer closed his eyes and bright light started to emanate them. Chrys turned her head away as the light shined bright. When she turned back, Sam’s body was motionless on the floor, and as soon as he stirred, she knew.   
  
Dean took the Horsemen’s rings out of his pocket, but she pulled them out of his hand and wrapped her fingers around them. “Dean, it’s not him,” she said softly, fighting the tears in her eyes. “Sam didn’t win.”   
  
Lucifer, wearing Sam’s face, sat up and smirked. “Why do you always ruin all the fun, Chrysanthemum?”   
  
She glared. “Fuck you.”   
  
He smiled. “All right, have it your way, darling.” He stood, then held his hand out to her. “Come here, Chrysanthemum.”   
  
She didn’t argue. There was no use. She slid her slender hand into his broad one, and the cold emanating from it, where it used to be so warm, almost took her out at the knees. Instead, she steeled herself and stood next to him.   
  
But, like usual, Lucifer had to have the last word.   
  
He looked at Dean. “I told you, this would always happen in Detroit.”

The world dipped away from her.  


***   


When Chrys opened her eyes, they were in the lush bedroom he’d brought her to before. She sighed and pulled her hand from his. “So, when’s the showdown?” she asked without preamble.   
  
He smirked and watched her move around the room. Seeing Sam’s face, her sweet Sam, distorted with Lucifer’s cold features was killing her, so she turned away to look around the room.   
  
“So eager to see me defeat Michael, Chrysanthemum?”   
  
She shrugged. “Eager for it to be over.”   
  
He was at her back now, and she could feel the cold coming off of him in waves. “Well, we have all night tonight,” he said softly, one hand coming up to stroke her arm gently, making her shiver. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”   
  
“What if I say no?” she asked softly, with no fear. “Will you rape me?”   
  
His hand stilled, and he gently used his grip on her arm to turn her around to face him. He cupped her face with his hand, and she couldn’t help leaning into the cool touch. It wasn’t Sam, but it was enough of Sam to have her yearning.   
  
“Chrysanthemum,” he said seriously. “I would never rape you. I will never do anything to you that I do not have permission for.”   
  
She gazed up into the cool hazel eyes and saw the truth there. Lucifer wouldn’t rape her, or force her to do anything. No, he would probably have her begging for it before long, but he wouldn’t do anything to her she didn’t ask him to.   
  
Maybe it was that, maybe it was the smidge of Sam she saw in those eyes. Maybe it was the ache in her at the loss of her soulmate, the grief that was starting to build in her heart. Maybe it was because she was so damn tired of fighting that little dark Chrys inside of her, that little part of her that was jumping for joy that Lucifer was here, and they could finally touch him.   
  
But in that moment, for the first time in her life, though Chrys would never tell anyone, she felt complete. She and the dark part of her agreed on at least one thing. Both of Chrys’s men, for they  _ were _ hers, regardless of how they came to be that way, were with her, in the same body, staring down at her with heat in those hazel eyes.   
  
So she raised up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.   
  
***   
  
Sam watched in horror as his woman pressed against him. He fought against Lucifer’s hold on his body, but to no avail. He couldn’t beat him, even as he felt Lucifer’s tongue brush across Chrys’s bottom lip, asking for permission.   
  
Sam sensed the truth of Lucifer’s words. He wouldn’t rape Chrys. He would never rape Chrys.   
  
He would hurt her until she was pleading for it, but he wouldn’t rape her.   
  
Sam struggled harder against the hold that Lucifer had on his mind, until Lucifer’s voice came to him, crystal clear.   
  
_ I’m going to turn you away now, Sam. This is between my bride and I. _   
  
Sam started screaming as all of his perception went dark and still.   
  
***   
  
Chrys wound her arms around Lucifer’s neck and kissed him back, opening for him when he ran his tongue along her bottom lip. He swept into her mouth, his big hands resting at her hips, and she sighed, reveling in the feel of being one with herself, wishing it was with someone else, glad that it was him.   
  
_ Being one with yourself is confusing. _   
  
He ran one of those hands along her waist, and when his fingers brushed her belly, her heart ached and she winced.

She turned her head away, refusing to look at him. “No,” she said softly. “I don’t want this.”

He tilted his head to look at her. “Are you sure, Chrysanthemum?” He placed a hand on her stomach, and she felt his cool power thread through her. She closed her eyes in sickening anticipation.  


***  


_ “Well, Chrysanthemum? What say you?” _  


_ Chrys looked Death in the eye and placed a protective hand on her belly. “Can I ask you for a different favor instead?” _  


_ He nodded. “You may ask. I have no guarantee I will say yes, but feel free to ask.” _  


_ She took a deep breath. “I want you to protect the baby.” She looked down at her still flat stomach. “Can you build a wall or something around her?” She looked back up at him. “So Lucifer doesn’t know?” _  


_ He gazed at her for a long time. “I offer you the chance to sever your bond with the devil, and you choose, instead, to protect the unborn child you did not desire?” _  


_ Chrys gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, well, motherhood changes people.” _  


_ Death looked at her for another long time. “Humans will never cease to amaze me. I will do both for you, Chrysanthemum. Both, because this is an unfair situation, and because the first human being willing to touch me for millennia wants to protect her daughter instead of herself.” _  


***  


She kept her gaze away from Lucifer. “Yes, I’m sure.” She wiped her eyes a little, irritated at herself for crying. “Please, not tonight.”  


She braced herself for him to attack her, for him to take what he wanted from her, to sense the baby and accuse her, but he just brushed a strand of hair away from her face and stepped back. “Very well, Chrysanthemum. We have work to do, anyway.”  


And for the second time in her life, Chrys and the dark part of her agreed on something: Relief. 

Chrys realized that the little part of her, even if she did crave Lucifer and the power he offered and the control she’d never had, that little part of her  _ loved _ the child she was carrying. All of the little broken parts of Chrys came together to be fiercely glad Lucifer couldn’t sense the baby.  


The daughter she had with Sam was finally making her a whole person.  


***   


Chrys stood with Lucifer in the cemetery, arms wrapped around her middle, eyes on the horizon.   


This was it. The big showdown, the prize fight, the apocalypse, Armageddon.   


Armageddon was kind of chilly.   


She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, wishing that Michael would show up and get it over with already. She didn’t want to die, she had the baby to think about, but she wanted to know one way or the other.

So she was relieved when Michael appeared.   


_ Good. Almost done. _   


Lucifer turned. “It’s good to see you, Michael.”   


Michael nodded. “You, too. It’s been too long.” He sighed and looked around. “Can you believe it’s finally here?”   


Lucifer shook his head. “No, not really.”   


Michael looked at Lucifer. “Are you ready?” He frowned.   


“As I’ll ever be.” Lucifer paused, and Chrys rolled her eyes at his manipulation. “A part of me wishes we didn’t have to do this.”   


“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Chrys muttered, letting her eyes go back to the horizon.  _ Archangels are thirteen year old girls. Who knew? _   


“Yeah,” Michael said, “Me, too.” She saw him frowning at her from the corner of her eye, but she didn’t meet his gaze.  _ Fuck him. _   


“Then why are we?” Lucifer asked, desperation tinging his tone.   


Chrys rolled her eyes again. “Ugh.”   


Michael glared at her. “What are you even doing here?”   


She gave him a winning smile, nerves making her stomach twist. “I’m here to cheer for Luci and provide comic relief.”   


“Don’t speak to her, Michael, she has nothing to do with this,” Lucifer snapped.   


Michael ignored him. “There is no reason for you to be here.”   


Chrys felt a brief, harsh flash of pain at the base of her neck, then nothing.   


***   


When Chrys opened her eyes, she was at Bobby’s house, on the couch. She sat up and frowned. “What the fuck?” she asked mildly.

She placed a hand on her stomach, and felt the baby’s comforting presence.  _ Mary Grace, _ she thought fondly as she stood.  _ Her name is Mary Grace Winchester. _

She looked around the home, calling out for Sam, Dean, and Bobby alternately. No one answered. When she tried to look through the windows, there was just a soft white light shining inward. She couldn’t see outside.  


Before she could figure out what was going on, the world went dark and was swept away from her again.  


***  


Chrys woke up on her back, looking up at Castiel, who was kneeling over her. She stared into those blue eyes so similar to hers, and saw all the answers she needed. She actually felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.  


She sat up slowly at met Dean’s eyes. Then she looked back at the angel.  


“He’s…”  


Dean nodded.  


“Oh, God,” she whispered. She stood and walked to Dean, wrapping her arms around him hesitantly. “I’m so sorry, Dean,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.  


He hugged her to him tightly. “Yeah, you too, Chrys,” he said roughly.  


_ What the fuck am I going to do without Sam? _  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here's my notes:  
> I own only Chrys Summers, the original character. I don't own Supernatural or the characters. (heartbroken)  
> Reviews, comments, and kudos give me the warm fuzzies and keep me going.  
> If there are any mistakes in continuity, canon, or geography, blame me.  
> **I hope I did this chapter justice.


	2. Take Care of Yourself

Chrys sat in the backseat of the Impala, watching the night fly by and listening to Dean and Castiel talk.

“What are you gonna do now?”

“Return to heaven, I suppose.”

“Heaven?” Dean asked, incredulous.

“With Michael in the cage, I’m sure it’s total anarchy up there,” Castiel explained.

“So, what, you’re the new sheriff in town?”

Castiel smiled a little. “I like that. Yeah. I suppose I am.”

Dean snorted. “Wow. God gives you a brand new, shiny set of wings, and suddenly you’re his bitch again.” Chrys chuckled a little in the backseat.

Cass ignored her to look at Dean. “I don’t know what God wants. I don’t know if he’ll even return. It just… Seems like the right thing to do.”

“Well, if you do see him, you tell him I’m coming for him next.”

“You’re angry.”

Dean snorted. “Fucking understatement.”

“He helped,” the angel protested, “Maybe even more than we realize.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Dean snapped. “He brought  _ you _ back. But what about Sam? What about me, huh? Where’s my grand prize? All I got is my brother in a hole!”

“You got what you asked for, Dean.” Castiel said quietly, imperiously.

He opened his mouth to continue, but Chrys thought she had held her tongue long enough. “What about me, Cass?” she asked softly, her hand resting lightly on her belly as her mind drifted to Mary Grace.

The angel turned to look at her with his big blue eyes, and she met his gaze fearlessly. “What about me? What the fuck has God done for me? What the fuck did  _ I _ ask for, Castiel, Angel of the fucking Lord?”

He stared at her for another moment, then disappeared.

She hmphed. “Pussy.”

***

When Dean got out to say goodbye to Bobby, Chrys got out, too. She was  _ exhausted, _ she just wanted to get her things and go find a motel room to sleep in… Possibly for a year.

When Dean and Bobby were done with their farewells, she smiled at Dean. He pulled her into his arms and crushed her to him, and she hugged him back fiercely.

“Drop you off somewhere, Summers?” he asked gruffly.

She stepped back and smiled at him. “Go find Lisa, Dean. I’ll be fine.”

He stared at her for another moment, then gave her a curt nod. “All right.” He pointed at her. “Take care of yourself, Summers. And that baby.”

She watched him go with a smile, then took a deep breath and let it out explosively. She turned to Bobby. “I’ll be out of your hair soon, Bobby. Just let me get my stuff.”

He shook his head. “Chrys, you should probably stay and sleep a little. You’re dead on your feet. Not good for the baby.”

She shook her head. “Bobby, no, I don’t want to put you out.”

He looked at her for a long moment,then shook his head. “Chrys, you got the closest thing to a grandkid I’m ever gonna have bakin’ in that oven of yours. You’re staying here until you get some rest.”

She wanted to argue. The bitchy part of her almost  _ needed _ to argue. But she was suddenly so tired she could barely stand, so she just nodded. “Okay, Bobby.”

“You stay as long as you need, girl.”

***

After a long, hot shower, during which she cried almost the whole time, Chrys stared at herself in the mirror for a while.

_ Who am I now? _

Her whole life had revolved around Lucifer or Sam in some way, and now there was… Nothing. Just her, wrapped in a towel, tangled hair over one shoulder, one hand resting protectively on her still very flat belly.

_ Ugh. _

She shook her head away to clear the thoughts and walked out of the bathroom. Out of habit, she walked into she and Sam’s room.

The memories there hit her like a brick wall. His clothes folded neatly in a laundry basket, his laptop closed on the desk, the pile of books haphazardly stacked in a corner that he’d been meaning to read. Tears filled her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand.  _ Oh, Sammy. _

She shut the door behind her, locked it, then dropped the towel and crawled into bed. She was overwhelmed for a moment with his scent, then burrowed herself in it, wrapping the blankets around her and falling asleep breathing him in, missing him so much her whole body ached.

***

Chrys stayed with Bobby for a week after Sam died.

She didn’t go hunting with him. She did answer the phone when it rang, and discovered that her vast knowledge of the occult, witchcraft, and the supernatural in general was a help to the hunters who were calling. She didn’t mind answering the phone while she was there, but she wanted out of this life.

She wanted a breath of normal. So she called Kevin and Serene, who were delighted to hear from her, devastated to hear about Sam, and absolutely insistent she come stay with them.

So when she knew Bobby was going to come home that night, she cleaned the house, put a very simple dinner in a slow-cooker for him, and left him a note. Then she took one of the cars from the salvage yard (with the promise to send it back in the note), and took off.

***

Kevin and Serene’s home had a very bohemian, hippy-dippy feel, and despite the way she was raised, Chrys would have fallen in love with it immediately if she hadn’t been heartbroken.

Jesse ran out to greet her. “Chrys!”

She laughed and caught him, hugging him close. “Jesse!” She sat back and really looked at him, fighting the tears back. “Holy shit, you got tall, babe.”

He grinned and nodded. “Yeah!” He turned and ran back to the house. “Kev! Serene! Chrys is here!”

Kevin came out first, smiling at Chrys so brightly he should have lit up the darkness of the night. “Chrys!”

He wrapped her up in a hard hug, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “How you holdin’ up, baby?”

For some reason, though Dean hadn’t been able to, and Bobby hadn’t been able to, Kevin’s words made her shake. “Um… I’ve been better, Kev,” she said softly. “A lot better.” Her voice broke on the last word.

Without hesitation, Kevin bent and scooped her into his arms. She wanted to protest, because she was too heavy to be being carried around (except by a certain tall, hazel-eyed hunter that she couldn’t think about just then), but she just pressed her face into his chest and let him carry her home.

***

Chrys really liked it there.

Her days were filled with peace, or as peaceful as heartbreak could be. She helped Jesse with homework, helped Serene with housework, and rested. Kevin had a job at a local garage, and made enough to let Serene stay home most of the time. If money got tight, she waited tables at the local bar.

Chrys could have been very happy there, if Sam had been with her.

She would turn to tell him something, only to find that he was in hell. She would wonder where he’d gotten off to when she wasn’t thinking, and found that he was in hell. She would reach out to him in the night, wanting to wrap herself in his arms, only to find that he was in hell.

It made her restless and bitchy, and she couldn’t help the way she tended to bite off Serene or Kevin’s head on occasion. Jesse was the exception, she never snapped at Jesse, but he knew something was wrong. He was a perceptive kid.

She also began getting morning sickness a couple of weeks in, which  _ also _ made her bitchy.

She was lying on her back on the couch, fighting off the nausea, when her phone rang. Without looking, she flipped it open and pressed it to her ear. “What?”

“Ah, good ol’ Summers,” a familiar voice drawled over the phone.

She grinned. “Dean! How are you? Why are you calling?” She frowned. “Is everything okay?”

His deep chuckle warmed her. “Yeah, yeah, chill, kiddo, just callin’ to check in. How’s the baby?”

“Currently trying to kill me through morning sickness,” she grouched, sitting up slowly. “I can’t keep anything down.”

While they chatted about the baby, Chrys realized that she had missed Dean.  _ Oh, God, Dean’s my best friend. I’m so fucked. _

“Lisa wants to meet you,” he said, feigning casualty badly.

Chrys smiled. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll come see you guys. Before… Uh, before the baby’s born.”  _ So weird. _ It was strange how her life would now be measured in befores and afters.

“Yeah, that’d be good. Hey, listen, I gotta go, but keep in touch, okay? And take care of yourself.”

“You, too, Winchester.”

She hung the phone up feeling very warm, and very resolute.

As much as she liked being here, with Kevin and Serene and Jesse, this wasn’t where she wanted to be. She loved this little family, but they had created their own world between the three of them, and as much as she would have liked to be, she wasn’t part of it. She had to go figure out a place for herself and for her little one.

“Balls.”

***

After a few more weeks of planning, Chrys was saying goodbye to Kevin, Serene, and Jesse.

There were shadows in Kevin’s eyes. He didn’t understand why Chrys wouldn’t just stay with them, and she wasn’t going to start explaining herself now. It didn’t feel right, staying here with them. As much as she loved them, the pull toward Dean was stronger. She wanted the baby to know her uncle. Which was a very sentimental thought, which she blamed Sam for unequivocally.   


The thought of Sam hurt… Less. It still hurt, but she could feel herself start to pull out of the depression Sam’s death had left her in. Part of it was her pure, stubborn refusal to be sad for the rest of her life.   
  
But most of it, of course, was Mary.   
  
She hugged Kevin, tears forming in her eyes. Baby hormones. “I’ll keep in touch, okay? And I’ll visit all the time.”   
  
He crushed her to him, putting a rough kiss on her cheek. “You’d better.”   
  
She smiled and let go of him, only to be wrapped in Serene’s embrace a moment later. She laughed and hugged her back. “Serene, I’m not going to Nova Scotia. I’m going to Indiana.”   
  
Serene hmphed. “I don’t understand why you can’t stay here.”   
  
Chrys sighed. “We’ve talked about this. I just… I just need to go.”   
  
“Stay here. Have Mary here,” Serene insisted again.   
  
Chrys smiled and kissed Serene on the cheek, then firmly stepped back. “No.”   
  
“It’s okay,” Jesse said happily, stepping forward to hug Chrys around the middle. “Everything will be okay, Chrys.”   
  
She smiled down at him, running her hands through his hair. “What makes you say that, babe?” She was never sure if it was his natural childhood optimism, or something more powerful at work when he said something like that.   
  
“I just have a feeling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, beautiful readers! Here are my notes:  
> I own only Chrys Summers, the original character. I don’t own Supernatural or any of the characters. (heartbroken)  
> Reviews, comments, and kudos give me life and keep me going.  
> And, as always, thank you for reading, you beautiful, beautiful people.  
> **We're gonna have to go down to weekly updates for a while, guys, I'm sorry. I'm in the nonprofit world, specifically animal welfare, and this is both a slow season (which means harried fundraising), and a busy season (lots of little furry ones left out in deadly cold weather), so my life has exploded. <3 I love you guys, as soon as things slow down, we're back to every few days, I promise.  
> **Next chapter is where this story and I Won't Love You really start to differ.


	3. Can I Have Her Now?

Chrys laid on the bed in the motel room she’d gotten in Cicero, Indiana. She was meeting Dean and Lisa for lunch the next day, so she had some free time to figure out what the fuck she was doing.   
  
Cicero seemed nice. It was a fairly quiet little town. Sam had told her about the case they’d worked there, and that it had been monster-free since then. Dean had kept an eye on it for the last few years, watching over Ben and Lisa.   
  
Chrys’s heart ached for a moment at being protected like that, but she pushed it away. Sam was gone, and she had pretty much decided he was it for her.  _ Once you’ve had your soulmate, who else could you possibly want? _   
  
No, she had decided it would just be her and Mary.   
  
But Cicero seemed like a good place to settle down. Dean would be there, and she wanted very much for him to be part of her daughter’s life. It would also give her some backup, especially since she didn’t know the first goddamn thing about raising a baby.   
  
_ Eh. I’ll figure it out. _   
  
***   
  
Lisa was lovely. She enthused about the tiny baby bump that Chrys was showing, she insisted that Dean pay for lunch, and she seemed to silently acknowledge the shadows in both Dean and Chrys’s eyes. Chrys liked her very much.   


***

Several weeks passed peacefully. Chrys lived in the motel and found a job waiting tables where the restaurant owner wouldn’t fire her for being pregnant. She liked it, it was friendly, and people started recognizing her. She was amused by the air of intrigue that everyone seemed to think hung around her.   
  
Cara, one of the other waitresses, a much younger woman (in life, not in actual years), was gushing over it. “I mean, a tall, beautiful woman with eyes the color of the sky comes rolling into town. She has a mysterious connection to a mysterious, tall, beautiful man who rolled into town weeks earlier. She’s pregnant with a mysterious, I can only assume tall and beautiful, man’s baby. Chrys, you may be the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to me.”   
  
Chrys, who was filling salt and pepper shakers, laughed. “That is truly pathetic, Cara.”   
  
Cara nodded miserably as she screwed the lids back onto the shakers. “I know. My life is a disaster.”   
  
Chrys smiled. It was weird, being in this kind of stasis… Surely something was about to happen to rip away the little life she was living. Domestic living wasn’t for her, hell was.   
  
_ Of course, now that hell is closed… What  _ is _ for me? _   
  
_ “Hello, _ Earth to Chrys!”   
  
Chrys blinked and swatted Cara’s hand away. “Shaddup. What?”   
  
“I asked when you’re moving out of that dump that you live in.”   
  
Chrys shrugged. “The motel’s not that bad. I just need to save up a little more so I can get an apartment. Then I’ll be set.”   
  
Cara looked sympathetic. “Are you gonna be okay, Chrys? Money-wise? With the baby?”   
  
Chrys smiled. “I’ll be fine, Cara.”   
  
***   
  
A few weeks later, she was able to move into an apartment. She only had her clothes and a few books, so it was easy to move her stuff in.   
  
Unfortunately, she had to buy a bed. Which meant that she needed Dean to help her move it. Which meant that she’d have to tell him that she’d been living in a crap motel for two months without telling him.   
  
“What the  _ fuck, _ Chrys?”   
  
She rolled her eyes and moved around him to push the mattress down onto the frame. Before she could, he was blocking her way and doing it for her.  _ Infuriating. _ “I’m fine, Dean,” she snapped. “I’m moved out now, so what does it matter?”   
  
Her new apartment was light and airy. There were big windows in both bedrooms, and while the kitchen was on the small side, the living room was big enough for a loveseat (when she could afford one) and a pack and play for the baby. She loved it.   
  
Dean, however, was still pretty upset. “Why wouldn’t you just  _ tell _ me? You could have stayed with us!”   
  
Chrys was moving around him to put sheets on the new bed. It was more difficult than it used to be. Chrys had always enjoyed a natural thinness, and hadn’t ever really thought anything of it. But the baby was becoming more prominent every day, and she was already ready to stop carrying around the extra weight and taking up the extra space. “Dean, I was fine. I didn’t bail on Kev and Serene just to intrude on you and Lisa. It’s fine now, so shut up and help me put these sheets on.”   
  
He frowned, but moved to obey. “Chrys, it wouldn’t be-“   
  
“Shut up, Dean,” she said softly, not looking at him. “I’m not going to argue with you right now. One, I’m tired. And two, quite frankly, I’m used to being on my own, Dean. It genuinely never occurred to me to ask for help, because I’ve never had anyone I could ask for help.” She finally met his concerned green eyes and smiled. “So shut up about it. I’ll keep you in mind next time I’m pregnant and homeless.”   
  
***   
  
The rest of Chrys’s life fell into a gentle routine that slowly began to heal her.   
  
She managed to buy a loveseat and a little table with two chairs, so her apartment was damn near furnished. Cara gifted her with a few nice paintings to hang on the wall, and Chrys slowly accumulated the rest of the miscellaneous stuff that people need to live. It would be several weeks after the baby was born before Chrys would realize that she had a home.   
  
Two months after she moved in, Chrys was seven months along, and was very ready to be done being pregnant.   
  
She was talking to Bobby about it while she made them dinner. He had come to visit a few times, and he was staying on her couch that night before he made his way back to South Dakota after a hunt.   
  
“It’s miserable,” she said cheerfully, stirring the noodles. She had become almost a sort of cook, which she thought would amuse Sam to no end, had he been around to know. “My back hurts, my legs hurt, my head hurts, and all I want to do is eat and cry.”   
  
Bobby chuckled. “Doesn’t even sound like you.”   
  
She nodded. “I know, it’s the exact opposite of everything I am. It’s driving me crazy.”   
  
After dinner, they sat and chatted for a while. Chrys was extremely fond of Bobby, and it was making her all warm and fuzzy inside that he was there. She assured herself that it was baby hormones making her so emotional as she fought back tears at the thought of him coming to check on her.   
  
“Chrys,” he started, graciously ignoring the tears in her eyes, “Where’s the baby stuff?”   
  
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I’m saving some money up to get it. She won’t really need anything but a car seat and a crib for the first few weeks, so that’s what I’ll get first, and we’ll go from there.”   
  
Bobby let that go, but he looked troubled. Chrys hoped he wasn’t going to make a big deal about it. Her pride told her she could do this on her own, she didn’t need any help. Realistically, she knew it would be a struggle, but it was a struggle she wanted. If she couldn’t have Sam by her side, she didn’t want anyone standing there.   
  
***   
  
The next morning, Bobby was gone, which Chrys had expected. She had the day off, so she wrapped a blanket around her and settled down on the couch with a baby book, deciding that she would take at least three naps that day.   
  
It was early afternoon when the doorbell started to ring.   
  
The first delivery was of a very, very nice car seat. She blinked, but accepted it. She’d done some research, she knew it was expensive. She also knew it was the safest car seat made, so she let the gift slide, since it was for Mary.   
  
There was a note with the delivery slip.  _ Shut up and take it, Chrys. - B _   
  
She smiled and spent the next hour putting it together and reading the safety manual front to back.   
  
Just as she was reading it for the second time, the doorbell rang again. This time, it was a woodworker who was delivering a beautiful handmade crib. She couldn’t stop the tears that time, just pointed him in the right direction.   
  
There was another note on this invoice.  _ Call me tonight, I’ll explain. - B _   
  
The rest of the day was like that. Deliveries of baby clothes, toys, blankets, bottles, and everything someone needs to have a baby. Chrys was completely overwhelmed, and called Bobby as soon as it could be considered night.   
  
She didn’t expect the anger from her voice, but it felt more familiar to her than gratitude and crying, so she went with it. “What the fuck, Bobby?”   
  
“Shut up, idjit,” he said, unfazed. “It’s all really from Sam.”   
  
Everything in her stilled. “What?” she breathed out.   
  
His voice was gentle. “Chrys, Sam had some money he kept in a savings account. When he found out about the baby, he started putting more money in there. It’s not a lot, we’ve damn near burned through it now, but you’ve got everything you need for her.” His voice had become thick at the end, but he cleared his throat and said firmly, “So shut up and take it.”   
  
She tried to smile through the tears pouring down her cheeks, but couldn’t. “I miss him, Bobby,” she said softly, her voice broken.   
  
A deep sigh. “Yeah, me, too, kiddo.”   
  
***   
  
Chrys didn’t bother with a baby shower, but she received a few gifts of the last things she would need, anyway   
  
Serene made her a beautiful baby afghan, and much to Chrys’s embarrassment, she cried when she got it. Serene just smiled sympathetically. “Pregnancy hormones, Chrys. Don’t worry, everyone knows you’re tough as nails.”   
  
Dean and Lisa bought her a few sets of baby clothes, and a top of the line baby monitor. And, again, much to her embarrassment, she cried,  _ again. _ Lisa just hugged her. “Let it all out now, because soon, you’ll be too tired to cry,” she said, laughing.   
  
Bobby, ever practical, surprised her by coming over one day and monster-proofing her apartment. Salt-mixed paint went on doors and windows, devil’s traps were painted on rugs thrown in front of those same doors and windows. Protective hex bags were hung at the entrance and each doorway, and he made sure there was plenty of silver and iron in the home.   
  
She barely managed not to cry, but it was close.   
  
***   
  
While she put together the nursery and thought about raising a baby, wincing as Mary sent a kick to her ribs hard enough that Chrys was certain it would bruise, she thought about Sam.   
  
She thought about how happy he would be to be a part of this. How he would talk to her stomach, and be so sweet and sappy that he’d make her gag a little as she rolled her eyes. She thought about how worried his hazel eyes would be while he read safety manuals and put together baby stuff. She thought about him packing a birthing bag, about him hovering over her and following her around and asking again and again if she wanted to quit her job.   
  
Chrys didn’t realize until that moment that she’d sunk to her knees, her face buried in one of the baby blankets. She was crying quietly, the sounds muffled against the soft material. She cried for Sam, who wouldn’t meet his daughter. She cried for Mary, who wouldn’t get to have her huge, protective father around. And she cried for herself, because despite the life she was carrying, Chrys had never felt lonelier.   
  
***   
  
Six weeks later, Chrys was on the phone with Serene, laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.   
  
“Two weeks,” Serene said reverently.   
  
Chrys, who was rubbing her belly, smiled. “Two weeks, and she’ll be here.”   
  
“Are you completely excited?”   
  
Chrys shrugged, even if Serene couldn’t see it. “I’m ready to have her here, so I don’t have to be goddamn pregnant anymore.”   
  
There was a moment of silence, then Serene asked, “Are you going to be okay, baby?”   
  
Tears gathered in Chrys’s eyes. “Yeah, Ser, I’ll be fine.”   
  
Mary kicked, and Chrys smiled. Castiel had told her the baby would probably have some powers, and Chrys suspected that her daughter was psychic. Or at least supernaturally empathetic. The past several weeks, if Chrys was upset, Mary was kicking. Chrys thought that the baby could feel that each kick made Chrys’s heart beat faster in gratitude, and was trying to soothe her mother.   
  
_ Oh, God, she’s a bleeding heart like Sam was. _   
  
The thought of her soulmate hurt, and Mary kicked again, and Chrys laughed.   
  
***   
  
Two weeks later, on her exact due date, Chrys woke up, and just  _ knew. _ Mary Grace was going to be born that afternoon, so she had some time to prepare.   
  
She went through and cleaned the apartment. Very light contractions started late morning, but she was able to finish cleaning, check her birthing bag, and get the car seat by the door in plenty of time.   
  
In early afternoon, the contractions started becoming so painful she had to breathe herself through them.  _ Time to call. _   
  
“What’s up, Summers?”   
  
Dean sounded distracted.  _ He doesn’t remember, _ Chrys thought with some amusement. “Are you busy?” she asked, feigning casualty.   
  
“Not with anything that can’t wait,” he said, still barely paying attention to the call.   
  
Stifling her laughter, Chrys said carelessly, “Oh, okay. Well, I thought I’d go ahead and have the baby this afternoon. I just thought you’d be interested.”   
  
“Yeah, yeah, sounds great, kiddo-“ there was a deafening pause, then, “God dammit, Chrys.”   
  
She tossed her head back and laughed. “I know, I’m sorry.” Still chuckling, “But she’s coming today, in a couple of hours, so I’m headed to the hospital.”   
  
Though she was trying to play it cool, the next contraction had her crying out a little, her face scrunched up as she breathed through the pain.   
  
“Chrys?!  _ Chrys!” _   
  
“God, what?” she snapped into the phone. “Chill, it was just a contraction.”   
  
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, don’t goddamn leave without me.” He sounded grim.   
  
She rolled her eyes. “Dean-“   
  
“No buts, Summers, I’m on my way.”   
  
She smiled and agreed, savoring the feeling of a Winchester caring about her.   
  
She just wished it was the  _ right _ Winchester.   
  
***   
  
Several hours later, Chrys lay exhausted in her hospital bed, with Dean standing next to her. He’d essentially bullied his way into the room, and she had let him, because she was in too much pain, and if she was honest with herself, too scared to be by herself. The labor was already a blur of pain, pushing, of nurses encouraging her, and of Dean’s deep voice telling her she was doing great.   
  
The nurse’s quick, nervous inhale had Chrys’s head snapping up, glaring at the woman. “What’s wrong?” she asked, some part of her certain it would be terrible.  _ Too good to be true. _   
  
“Nothing,” the doctor said firmly, giving the nurse another nasty look. Chrys liked him, he was no nonsense and efficient. He didn’t really care that Chrys was scared, he cared that the baby be born safely. Chrys could tell Dean hated him, but she was already halfway in love with the man.   
  
Dr. Smith smiled genially at her. “Mary was born with a caul. Are you familiar with that term?”   
  
Chrys nodded, very familiar with the membrane that infants sometimes had out of the womb… And the myths and legends surrounding the rare occurrence. “Yeah, is it an amniotic caul?” She didn’t really want Mary’s first moments to be in pain, and the amniotic caul would be much easier to remove.   
  
The doctor’s eyebrows rose, then he nodded. “Yes, yes it is. I’m impressed, Ms. Summers.”   
  
She smiled. “I did some reading.” She had, in fact, read every book on pregnancy and babies she could lay her hands on for the last six months. She could probably have done the birth herself, at home, had the mood stricken her.   
  
He nodded. “Now, you’re not superstitious, are you? The baby doesn’t necessarily-“   
  
Thinking about how remarkably apt it was that her probably psychic daughter had been born with a caul, considering the legends, Chrys held a hand up. “I understand, Dr. Smith,” she said softly. “Can I have her now?”   
  
He smiled and turned to the nurse, who was just wrapping Chrys’s daughter in a blanket. “Here she is,” the nurse said softly, smiling. “She’s beautiful, Mama.”   
  
Chrys took Mary into her arms, and her breath caught.  _ Oh, Jesus, she’s perfect. _   
  
She looked like Sam already. She’d been born with a full head of thick, chestnut hair, making Chrys weepy again. “Oh, God,” she whispered, running her finger across one full, chubby cheek.   
  
“She’s beautiful, Chrys,” Dean said thickly, leaning over her.

And, as perfect as the moment was, as much as she loved that her entire little family were gathered outside, waiting to meet the little one… As perfect as her daughter was, and as much as she knew Dean felt the same way about her that Chrys did…

She couldn’t help but wish Sam was there with her, instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, beautiful readers! Here are my notes:  
> I own only Chrys Summers, the original character. I don’t own Supernatural or any of the characters. (heartbroken)  
> Reviews, comments, and kudos give me life and keep me going.  
> And, as always, thank you for reading, you beautiful, beautiful people.  
> **This chapter probably seems a little rushed, and that'she’s because it is. Two reasons for that: one, I don'the know the first goddamn thing about being pregnant. And two, not a lot happens during this time frame. So, if I fucked anything up, or it's just really bad, let me know. :)


	4. Hey, Beautiful

While Chrys suspected that raising an infant was never easy, the fact that Mary had a myriad of psychic abilities made it a hell of a lot easier.

As soon as they got to go home (a trip which took at least thirty minutes longer than it should have, because Dean refused to go over fifteen miles an hour on the way back), they fell into a rhythm after that first night.

The first night, Mary woke with a cry. Tired and groggy, Chrys woke with her and padded over to the crib. She’d moved it into her bedroom and rationalized by assuring herself she’d move it back into the nursery in just a few days. As soon as she was used to having the baby here.

Chrys checked all the things that made sense, but the Mary’s diaper was dry, she’d very recently eaten, and she looked fine. Frowning, Chrys tried to get her foggy brain to understand what her daughter wanted.

Before she could, an image was  _ pushed _ into her mind. A picture of her own face, tears in her eyes. A strange, blurry shape next to her, and the deep, rough timbre of Dean’s voice. “She’s beautiful, Chrys.” 

The feeling of  _ comfort _ was what Chrys noticed most, and she realized with a cold shock shuddering through her that Mary was showing her what she wanted.

“Oh. Sweet holy fuck.”

Hesitantly, a little nervous, Chrys leaned down and swaddled the baby tightly, then picked her up and cradled her in her arms gently. As soon as she was settled, her nerves and hesitation melted away, and she just thought about how much she already loved the little creature in her arms.

She held Mary until she got a fuzzy picture of the crib. She gently set her back down, and Mary was out like a light.

“Well that’s gonna make things a hell of a lot easier.”

***

She fell into a good routine with the baby, and after a week and a half, she started letting people visit.

Kevin and Serene were first, and they brought Jesse. Jesse immediately had a profound bond with Mary, and was able to send pictures back to her, making her blink and coo, which for the baby, was quite the expression of emotion.

“She loves you,” Jesse said softly, playing with the baby’s fingers. “She recognizes your voice, and she knows who you are.” He smiled up at Chrys from where he sat on the couch with Mary. “That’s pretty much  _ all _ she knows, ‘cause she’s so little.”

Chrys smiled and ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair. “That’s all right, that’s all she needs to know.” She paused, then looked at him. “Jesse, do you remember what Sam looked like?” When he nodded, he swallowed hard. “Can you send her a picture of him?”

Mary didn’t react,  _ obviously, _ but Chrys continued to have Jesse send her pictures of Sam when he was over.

***

Dean, predictably, became a big pile of mush in the presence of his niece. He began coming a couple of times a week so Chrys could nap while he watched the baby. He knew Chrys was tired, but she never complained, just did what she had to do.

He watched the infant that looked so much like his brother sleep, and Dean felt his heart break.  _ I shouldn’t be here, Sam should be here. _

***

Bobby, too, was a sucker for the baby, much to Chrys’s amusement. The big, gruff hunter held the baby like she was made of glass. It made Chrys realize how many people loved her and Mary, and that made her weepy on and off all day. 

Even if he  _ did _ seem a little distant and distracted, she chalked that up to her being too tired to think clearly and let it go.

***

Kevin, Serene, and Jesse decided to move closer to Chrys. Serene quit her job completely so she could watch the baby while Chrys was at work. On the days the baby was over, Jesse was entranced by her. They had short, frequent conversations, mostly held in pictures.

Mary didn’t know very much, so she really just sent pictures of what she wanted (which was either the bottle, a new diaper, or a blanket), and Chrys.

Jesse, however, made sure to send her pictures of Sam. He knew Chrys wanted the baby to recognize her father, and even if he didn’t understand why, he did love Chrys very much. So he sent the pictures of Sam.

***

Chrys was a rather atypical mother of a newborn. She didn’t show Mary off, she actually preferred to leave her with Serene and Jesse when she had to go out. She didn’t hover, she didn’t worry overmuch, and she had a pretty fair amount of confidence that she was doing just fine at motherhood.   
  
The only concession she gave to being Mary’s mom was pictures. Chrys became absolutely addicted to taking pictures of Mary. She ended up scraping together enough money to buy a fairly nice used digital camera, and she documented every day of her daughter’s life.   
  
When Mary was twelve weeks old, Chrys went back to work without complaint. She just did her job and went home at the end of the day. She picked up shifts, covered for sick people, and in general just did the best she could. She thanked whoever was listening every night that Serene was so laid-back about childcare. She didn’t mind watching the baby at all, and short-notice wasn’t an issue since she’d quit her job.   
  
Around Mary’s six month birthday, Chrys was promoted to assistant manager of the restaurant. She still covered a few shifts a week, but it allowed her to have steadier hours, so she was able to be home more often. There was a miniscule raise, but Chrys tried not to worry about money very much. They were getting by just fine.   
  
When her lease came up, she signed on for another year.

Also around Mary’s six month birthday, they got a cat. Or, rather, a cat moved in with them. He wandered into the apartment, and Chrys woke up from dozing on the couch to Mary cuddling with a strange grey tabby cat in her crib.

Rather than panic, Chrys took him to the vet, got him vaccinated, checked out, and neutered. She named him Sebastian, got everything someone needs for a cat, and adjusted. It went well.   
  
In general, the first year of Mary’s childhood passed with a lot of peace and routine. Around six months, Dean became distant and kind of weird, but Chrys thought it was probably because Mary was tall, with a thick mop of dark hair, and she looked a lot like a pretty, feminine version of her father. Chrys didn’t blame Dean, sometimes she had a hard time with it, too. And Lisa said he’d started travelling for work, so Chrys didn’t think about it too much.   
  
But by the time Mary was pulling herself to her feet on furniture and starting to take her first hesitant steps, Chrys found that she was somewhere in the neighborhood of happy. Not as happy as she could have been, the love of her life was still in hell, but she was getting there.   
  
And it was right around a year that her life turned upside down again.   
  
***   
  
She was feeding Mary, making faces at her beautiful daughter and trying to get her to eat. She knew she should go find her cell phone, it was still on silent and she should be ready in case the restaurant called, but she wanted Mary to eat dinner first. “Come on, sweetheart. If you eat, we’ll go to the park.”   
  
The baby laughed, and Chrys couldn’t help but smile. Sebastian, who was lounging beneath the high chair, gave a yawn.   
  
Before Chrys could speak again, Mary sent her an image of Sam, with a rush of anticipation.   
  
Chrys blinked. Mary’s images had become quite a bit clearer since she gained the ability to see, and now they were usually accompanied by strong feelings. But her daughter had never sent her a picture of Sam, and what was that feeling for…   
  
She put the spoon down and looked at Mary closely. “Mary, baby, that’s Daddy.”   
  
Mary giggled.    
  
Chrys frowned. “Baby, we talked about Daddy. Daddy’s dead.”   
  
More giggling. Sebs  _ mrowed. _   
  
Chrys narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “Are you fucking with me?”   
  
The doorbell rang, and she distractedly got up to answer it. Before she did, she crouched down and looked at Mary again. “Sweetheart, I don’t understand.”   
  
Another image of Sam, more anticipation. Sebastian  _ mrowed _ again _. _   
  
Chrys sighed. “Okay, yes, that’s Daddy. We’re excited that that’s Daddy. Mommy’s very confused,” she continued, opening the door, “But we’re real excited…” Her eyes widened. “That it’s…” Shock cascaded through her, and she felt her brain short-circuit. As she registered who stood in front of her.

  
Sam smiled tightly, his hands in his coat pockets, looking nervous. “Hey, beautiful.”   
  
***   
  
_ Several hours earlier… _   
  
Sam woke up alone in the panic room. Frowning, he sat up and looked around. What the hell?   
  
The last thing he remembered was grabbing Michael, infuriated that he’d killed Chrys, and flinging both he and the archangels into the cage. Irritation swept through him, and he wondered idly what the hell Dean had had to give up to get him out.   
  
He stood and stretched. He felt fine… He felt  _ great, _ actually… He wanted to know what had happened, and his heart ached at the thought of Lucifer killing Bobby and Cass, and Michael killing Chrys, but…   
  
He wandered out of the panic room, surprised to find the door unlocked, and walked into the kitchen. Dean was facing away from him. “Okay, I’m not changing the channel.”   
  
“Dean,” Sam said softly, still vaguely wondering what the hell was going on.   
  
Dean whirled around and stared. “Sam.”   
  
Sam squeezed him back when Dean crushed him into a hug, then turned and hugged Bobby. He stopped and stepped back. “Wait. I saw you… I… I  _ felt _ Lucifer snap your neck.”

Bobby shrugged. “Well, Cass kind of-”

Shocked, Sam interrupted. “Cass is alive?” He turned to Dean. “What about Chrys?”

Dean evaded with no subtlety whatsoever. “How are you feeling?”

“Dean, where the fuck is Chrys?”

***

Sam somehow managed to sneak away while Bobby was on the phone and Dean was in the bathroom. He took the Impala and  _ drove. _

_ Chrys is alive. _

He was still shaking.  _ Chrys is alive. _ His woman, his soulmate, she was alive, somewhere in Illinois, waiting for him to get to her. He could barely focus on the road.

His phone rang for the umpteenth time, and he finally answered it. “Dean, I’m going to Chrys. I know you said she’s not hurt, but-”

“Shut the fuck up, Sam,” Dean snapped. “You can’t just go barging in to find Chrys. She’s not… It’s not the same, Sammy.”

“What do you mean, ‘not the same?’” Sam demanded. “She’s still my soulmate, and I have to see her.”

“Sam, come on, please, don’t-”

Sam ended the call and hit the accelerator.

***

Sam stood in indecision in front of the apartment complex for a moment, then went in.

He was filled with nervous anticipation. How would she react? Would she be happy? He smiled.  _ No, she’ll probably be mad at me. _ The thought of having Chrys mad at him, when he had been so certain he’d never see her again, thrilled him.

He went up to the apartment he knew was hers from some quick online research and took a deep breath. He heard a laugh that made his heartbeat quicken, then rang the doorbell.

He heard her speaking to someone as she answered. Chrys sighed. “... Very confused, but we’re real excited…”

When she opened the door, he drank the sight of her in eagerly. She had gained some weight, but it was healthy, good weight, making her lose that gaunt look she’d sometimes carried. Her hair was still long, spilling over her shoulder. She was wearing leggings and a loose top, and her lovely blue eyes were wide in shock.

“That it’s…” she trailed off. She didn’t seem to even be breathing.

He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hey, beautiful.”

She stared at him for another moment.  _ “Sam?” _ she whispered, no part of her moving but her lips.

He rubbed the back of his neck, but didn’t take his eyes off of her. “Yeah, yeah, it’s me, Chrys. I, uh, Dean somehow made a deal with Death and got me out of the cage.”

“I don’t… Dean would have…  _ What?” _

He smiled. “Chrys, baby, this is good news.”

A high-pitched squeal sounded from behind her, and before he could register what it was, he saw the change it rendered in his woman. Her back snapped up straight, and a deadly fire started in those blue eyes.

He barely even had time to realize she’d moved before she was knocking him out cold.

***

Chrys was breathing hard, her mind racing.  _ First, get the unconscious monster out of the hallway. _

She grabbed the thing that looked like Sam’s hands and dragged him into the apartment, ignoring the way her heart raced when she felt how warm they were.  _ Oh, God, why me? _ She thought desperately.  _ Haven’t I been through goddamn enough? _ Sebastian started sniffing Sam disdainfully, but he didn’t hiss.

_ Second. Get the baby out. _

She walked into the kitchen after locking her door and scooped Mary out of the high chair. The baby tried to look around Chrys, but she kept a hand on her back to keep her still. “I don’t think that’s Daddy, littlun,” she said softly putting the baby in her crib. “Stay here, hear me?” She closed her eyes and thought  _ loudly _ about Mary staying in her crib, letting a safe feeling wash over her.

When she opened her eyes, the blue eyes of her child which so closely mirrored hers were wide. She babbled a little in her baby language, then Mary plopped down on her butt and stayed there. Chrys smiled and ran a hand through Mary’s hair. “Good girl. Mama’s gonna take care of this, okay? She’s gonna call Uncle Dean and take care of it.” She thought of Dean’s face, and Mary cooed fondly.

Sebastian wandered into the bedroom, looked at Chrys with his mysterious feline eyes, then leaped up agilely into the crib and curled himself around Mary. Chrys could almost see the message he was sending.  _ My baby. The baby will be safe. _

Chrys left the baby in her bedroom with the cat, then walked back out to the kitchen. “All right, what to do with you, you big motherfucker?”

After much tugging and heaving, she managed to get the monster into a chair. She tied him down securely, her heart breaking in her chest all over again. Sam had taught her how to tie secure knots, and this was  _ killing her. _

She sniffled a little, then realized she was almost crying. “God dammit,” she muttered, tying the last knot around the creature’s ankle. Then she found a clean burping cloth, shoved it into the creature’s mouth, and secured it with a strip of duct tape she kept beneath the kitchen sink.

Then she found her cell phone.

_ 32 missed calls from Dean W. _

“Got something to tell me, Winchester?” she muttered darkly as she hit the “Call” button. “Because you have some fucking  _ explaining _ to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, beautiful readers! Here are my notes:  
> I own only Chrys Summers, the original character. I don’t own Supernatural or any of the characters. (heartbroken)  
> Reviews and comments give me life and keep me going.  
> And, as always, thank you for reading, you beautiful, beautiful people.  
> **In case it wasn't made clear... I don'the have the first clue when it comes to having a child. I assume a psychic baby would be easier to raise. Bear with me. (She's gonna be hell in her teenage years, though.)


	5. This is So Fucking Weird

Chrys sat in her kitchen in shock, staring at Dean, who looked guilty.

_ Good. _

“I don’t understand,” she said softly, struggling a little. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t  _ tell _ me.”

“He was… Different, C.” Dean ran a hand through his hair. “I knew something was off. It gave me the willies just to be in a  _ room _ with him. And the thought of bringing him around you, and around Mary…”

She nodded. “Okay, yeah, I guess I get that. I just…” She groaned and let her face fall forward into her hands. “What the  _ fuck?” _

His big hand on her arm was comforting. “I know, C, we just gotta… Figure out where to go from here.”

She lifted her gaze to stare at him. “What do you mean where to go from here? I mean… I just…” She groaned again. “What the  _ fuck, _ Dean?”

There was a groan from the living room, where they’d moved Sam. Dean had started to untie him, but he’d stopped when Chrys had threatened bodily harm. They both whipped around to look at the doorway. Then Mary cooed from her bedroom, and dread pooled in Chrys’s belly.

“He’s waking up,” she said softly. She turned back to Dean. “Okay, just like we talked about. Take Mary, and I’ll call you when I’ve talked to Sam.”

He nodded, then looked at her carefully. “What are you going to say?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea.” She stood, scooting her chair back, then went to the nursery and opened the door, sensing Dean behind her.

Mary had pulled herself to standing, and she squealed happily when she saw Dean. Chrys smiled. “Hey, littlun. Uncle Dean’s gonna take you on a trip, okay?"

“No, kitten,” Dean said from behind her, “We’re not going to the park. We’re gonna go see Lisa and Ben.”

Chrys smiled. Mary had begun to push images into other people’s heads, too, not just Chrys and Jesse. Her favorite new victim was Dean.

“Come on, littlun, let’s get you ready.”

***

Once Dean and the baby were gone, Chrys took a deep, deep breath, then walked into the living room where Sam was tied to a chair in the middle, facing the outside wall.

She walked around and stood in front of him. He was awake. She smiled and reached forward to pull the duct tape off of his mouth as quickly as possible, wincing. “Sorry,” she said softly, “Precaution. I didn’t know you were back.”

He moved his jaw carefully, staring at her in a way that made her heart beat faster. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

She sighed and untied his arms and legs silently, hearing her pulse in her ears, trying not to freak out. Part of her was screaming to touch him, to wrap her arms around him and never let go. But the rest of her, the dominant,  _ motherly _ part of her, resisted, and instead moved to sit on the couch.

He stayed in the chair in the middle of the room, rubbing his wrists, his eyes still glued to her. “You look good,” he said softly.

She chuckled. “I look like I’ve gained weight, I have bags under my eyes, and I need a haircut, Sam,” she said with a smile, relaxing a tiny fraction.

“No,” he said fervently. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

_ Goddamn. _ He still had the ability to make every part of her mind go completely blank. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He ran a hand through his hair. “So, uh, how are you?”

She bit her lip. “Um, okay. I, uh… I have a job, so that’s… New.”

He smiled. “That’s great.”

She scoffed. “Oh, God, this is so fucking weird.”

He blinked, then laughed out loud. The sound of it made her feel twenty pounds lighter. “Yeah,” he said with a smile, “it really is.”

She smiled. “How are you feeling? Did I hurt you?”

He rubbed his jaw. “No, uh, just a little sore.”

She stood and walked to the kitchen. “Let me get you some ice, then.”

She quickly got the ice out of the freezer, pulled a towel out of the drawer, and wrapped the ice up. When she turned, he was directly behind her. She gasped a little, her wide eyes taking him in. His broad shoulders, his big chest, his handsome face.

It hit her then like a ton of bricks. How much she’d  _ missed _ him.

“Here,” she said softly, placing the ice pack and holding it to his jaw.

“Thanks,” he whispered, and the heat in his voice made her look up into his beautiful hazel eyes.

Without putting too much thought into it, she went up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his.

His deep groan almost took her out at the knees. But he had already wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him. So she gave up and just kissed him, whimpering as he pressed into her.

He moved his hands to her waist then lifted her slowly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tight against her and moaning into his mouth. He walked them over to the wall and pressed her against it, his hands moving to any part of her he could reach. She gasped and did the same, tracing over his hard chest, his warm shoulders and neck, running her hands through his thick hair.

He groaned roughly and pulled away to press his forehead to hers. “I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean for this to be… Like this.”

She chuckled. “It’s always like this for us, Sammy.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “But maybe we shouldn’t… Um, not yet.” She leaned her head back against the wall and met his gaze, struggling to control herself.. “Things have changed a little bit.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, we should wait.”

She nodded back. “Yeah, good, okay. Let’s just… Um…”

Her gaze was dragged to his mouth against her will. It was enough.

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

She smirked, giving in to him. “No, fuck  _ me.” _

His lips crashed to hers again, and she cried out, grinding herself down onto him. He pinned her harder against the wall, and one hand slid up to thread his fingers through her hair, then tugged on it to tilt her head back. “I’ll give the orders, beautiful,” he muttered, kissing his way down her neck to mouth at her shoulder, pulling the collar of her shirt aside to bare more skin for his lips.

She tilted her head eagerly for him, squeezing his hips with her legs and moving her hands up to lace her fingers at the back of his neck, holding onto him for dear life. “Sammy, I missed you so much,” she whispered, fighting back her emotions, trying to focus on the heat his mouth was sending spiralling through her.

“I know,” he whispered against her. “I’m here now, it’s okay.”

She tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Sam, please, now,  _ please, _ I need to touch you.”

He stepped back and she knew what he wanted, so she let her legs relax until she was standing. “Take your clothes off, Chrys,” he murmured, leaning forward again to kiss her hard, briefly.

She moaned and immediately stripped her shirt off, then slid her leggings down her legs in seconds. When she stood back up, he already had his shirt off, and her mouth watered. His dark eyes were roaming over her, and she smirked. She had no self-consciousness about the way her body had changed since Sam had seen her last. She had had a warrior’s body before, and she had a warrior’s body now. It was just a different fight.

“Jesus fuck, Chrys,” he groaned, his hands dropping to his belt to undo it. She watched hungrily as he slid his jeans off of his legs, simultaneously stepping out of his socks and shoes, too. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her at the sight of him. His hard body was still incredible, making her mouth water and making her tremble before he’d touched her.

He stepped forward and cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. The tender way he touched her made her heart beat faster.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, feathering his fingers from her face down to her neck. He slid them down to her breasts, cupping them gently and thumbing her nipples. She moaned and arched her back with a desperate gasp. “Beautiful.”

She could only answer with a whimper, and he slid one hand up to cup the back of her head, and the other one down her belly. She  _ did _ feel a moment of hesitation when his calloused fingertips touched the little swell of her belly that was left from pregnancy, then brushed across her stretch marks. “Beautiful.”

His ragged whisper swept those feelings away, so she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. “Please, Sam,” she whispered, desperate for him again.

The hand on her belly slipped between her legs, moving through her folds. “Shh, I’ve got you, hold on, beautiful.” His fingers started a gentle rhythm on her clit, making her gasp and come up on her toes.

He kissed his way to her ear. “Did you miss me, baby?”

She whimpered and nodded, pressing her face into his shoulder.

He nodded and his fingers became more insistent, and her hips rocked against his hand. “Did you miss this? Did you miss me fucking you?”

Her breathing was ragged and her breathy moans seemed to spurn him on. “Yes, Sam, yes,  _ please-” _

“Shh, come on, I’ve got you.” 

Heat started twisting inside her and she rolled her hips. He smiled against her skin, then his fingers left her clit, making her moan in protest, before running them through her slick folds. He slowly sank one, then two fingers into her, sending her back up onto her toes again.  _ “Sam!” _

“Come for me, Chrys, come on, baby,” his muttering in her ear sent her over the edge, making her vision go white and her legs turn to jelly.

He pinned her to the wall effectively, still thrusting his fingers in and out of her, working her through the aftershocks. “Good girl,” he whispered, pressing light kisses across her face.

“Sam,” she whispered, moving to catch his mouth with hers. “Please, I need you,  _ please-” _

He put his hands on her hips and lifted her again. She took the bait and raised her legs to wrap around his waist, opening herself for him. He settled and pressed the tip of his huge cock (had it always been that big? Jesus Christ) against her entrance.

She moaned and tried to rock her hips, but his hands held her fast. “Shh, hang on, sweetheart.” She hmphed and he chuckled lightly. He kissed her hard, making it difficult to think for a second a she appreciated the slide of their tongues against one another.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers again. “Beg for me, beautiful. Come on, I missed that, I want to hear it.”

She obeyed, her instinct still to do what he said, even if she didn’t  _ have _ to anymore. “Please, Sam, oh, fuck, I need you, please,  _ fuck _ me, please-”

Sam snapped his hips forward and slammed into her, making her cry out. He fucked her hard against the wall, making her moan and writhe and scream into his mouth as he kissed her.

She felt the pressure build up inside her again, making her hips rock against him, matching his rhythm thrust for thrust. “Oh, God, Sam, I’m gonna come again,” she whimpered, pressing her lips against his stubbly jaw.

“Good,” he growled. “Come for me.”

She screamed again against his skin as her second orgasm ripped her apart and put her together again. She held him close when he shuddered and groaned into her, his own orgasm working through him.

She ran her fingers through his sweaty hair, relishing the way he didn’t struggle to hold her up, his beautiful strength so much a part of him he rarely even realized it. Or how fucking sexy it was.

He finally leaned up and smiled at her. “We should get dressed.”

***

It was like no time had passed. Sam sat on the couch with Chrys on his lap, running his fingers through her long hair. He couldn’t stop touching her. Even if he couldn’t remember the time he was gone, even if it felt like he’d just woken up from jumping into the cage.

“Tell me about while I was gone.”

He felt her smile where her face was pressed into his neck. “What do you want to know?”

There had been a question burning in him since he walked up to the apartment door. He’d been too nervous to ask, but he knew it had to be asked sooner or later. “Tell me about her.”

She stiffened in his arms for a moment, and he worried that he’d said something to upset her. But she relaxed almost immediately, melting against him again. 

“Her name is Mary.”

***

Chrys told Sam about his daughter with a smile on her face. She was still pressed into the warm skin of his neck, his strong arms wrapped around her. She had gotten up and gotten a photo album, and was sitting in Sam’s lap now, watching as he flipped the pages. It was like no time at all had passed.

“She  _ adores _ Dean, it’s a little obnoxious, to be honest,” she said a long time after they’d made love in the kitchen. She’d worried for a moment that she was the only person who could possibly be as interested in the little details of Mary’s life, but Sam seemed to absorb every detail eagerly. “I’d be jealous if she didn’t let me know that she loves me more.”

“And she… Projects images into your head?”

She nodded and sat up to smile at him. “Yeah. She warned me you were coming, actually.”

He smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I made sure Jesse showed her pictures of you all the time. So she, um, knows what you look like.”

He brought his hand up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Does she know that…”

She nodded. “Yeah, I told her you were dead. I don’t know how much of that she absorbed, but we’ve talked about it.” She smiled. “She clearly knew what was up before I did.”

He looked up at her, wide hazel eyes begging her. “Can I… Can I meet her?”   


Chrys let her face become impassive, because she’d thought about this decision already, and knew her answer. “No.”

***

“No.”

Sam blinked, then stared at her for a moment in shock. That hadn’t been what he’d expected. “What?”

Chrys shook her head, and despite his shock, he could appreciate the way her pretty hair flowed over her shoulder, the way she exuded beauty and satisfaction in her post-coital glow. “No.”

He frowned. “What? Why?”

She sighed. “Sam, I can’t… I can’t let you in her life… Not if you’re going to hunt with Dean.”

“I…” He took a deep breath. “I mean, I haven’t even been awake for twelve hours, I haven’t gone hunting with Dean.”

She nodded and stood. Still craving her, he stood, too. “I know, Sam,” she said softly, running her hand through her hair and shaking it out at the ends. “I know, I just…” She stared into his eyes, and he found himself drowning in the blue there. “I have to  _ protect _ her, Sam. And I can’t let her live with the uncertainty that comes with a hunter as a father.”

He reached up and cupped her face gently, running his thumb along her high cheekbone, marvelling at how beautiful she was. “Chrys, I don’t…”

She nodded and tilted her head into his hand, making his heart beat faster. “I know, and I’m sorry. I don’t…” She seemed to come to a decision, then ran her hand up his arm and took his hand in hers. “Come with me for a second.”

He followed her down the hall (he’d follow her into hell if she asked him to) and into one of the bedrooms there.

Sam’s mind went completely blank when he looked into his daughter’s nursery. It was done in soft greens and yellows. A beautiful wooden crib was along one wall, with an attached changing table. There was a little box full of toys, a little shelf full of children’s books, and the closet door was open to reveal tiny clothes hung in neat rows.

“Chrys, this is…”

She smiled and led him further into the room. “This is her. This is Mary. I have to  _ protect _ her, Sam. I don’t want her to have to worry that you’re not going to live through your next case, if you’re ever going to make it home, if you’re going to make it to holidays or birthdays or  _ whatevers.” _

Her blue eyes were begging him to understand. “Sam, I’m not trying to give you an ultimatum, I promise. I just…” She ran her hand through her hair again, and the familiar nervous gesture made his chest ache. “Sam, if it were just me, I would take you back in, hit the road with you, no questions asked, no nothing. But I have Mary now, and I have to make sure she’s all right. I don’t  _ want _ to make you choose, but… I guess I am.”

Sam’s heart beat faster as she looked at him evenly. “Well, Sammy? What’s it going to be? Us or the life?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, beautiful readers! Here are my notes:  
> I own only Chrys Summers, the original character. I don’t own Supernatural or any of the characters. (heartbroken)  
> Reviews, comments, and kudos give me life and keep me going.  
> And, as always, thank you for reading, you beautiful, beautiful people.


	6. You. Always.

There was really only one answer.

“You. Always. It was always you, Chrys.”

***

Chrys wouldn’t let him meet Mary right away. “We need to make sure we can be together for real, Sam.”

He smiled at her, sprawled naked on top of him, her long hair spilling across his chest. “I think we work together just fine.”

She rolled her eyes and heaved off of him. “Shut up,” she said without venom, “You know what I mean.”

She stood and stretched, and he hungrily watched the long line of her body stretch tight. He felt himself stir again. “How long will the baby be with Dean?”

She shrugged. “Another couple of hours.”

He was off the bed and pinning her to the wall in a heartbeat. “Good.”

***

Later that night, she was wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of underwear as she cooked. She had been right, Sam was very amused when he found out she knew how to cook.

He was standing behind her, his face buried in her hair. “So what, exactly, do you want us to do to prove that we can be together?”

She shrugged and stirred the sauce. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

He was silent for a moment, then, “Can I take you on a date?”

***

Chrys found herself being almost… Nervous, to have Sam pick her up.

“This is ridiculous,” she said firmly to herself.

“You look great,” Lisa said with a smile from behind her. Chrys had sensed that something was wrong between the other woman and Dean, so her reasons for inviting her here tonight were twofold. One, Chrys wanted to try to smooth the way for Dean and Lisa.

The second was that Chrys really did need someone to tell her she looked okay.

There was a familiar honk, and Chrys winced. “Oh, fuck, he’s here.”

Lisa laughed and fixed Chrys’s hair over her shoulder. “You’re gonna do great.”

“I should grab a jacket,” Chrys fretted uncharacteristically. “You can see the scar on my shoulder.”

She was wearing a strapless sundress she’d borrowed from Lisa. It was dark blue, which brought out her eyes, and the line complimented her thin frame. Her hair fell in dark curls over her shoulder, which Lisa had fixed.

Chrys wrinkled her nose. “This is crazy. Call him and cancel. Tell him I moved to Canada. Do you think French is hard to learn?”

Lisa laughed. “Chrys, you’re going to be great. You guys are literally soulmates. It’s going to be great.” She stood and put her hands on Chrys’s shoulders. “Now, go. Have a good time. We’ll watch the baby until you guys are done.”

***

Sam couldn’t believe how nervous he was to take a woman, with whom he was in love, and who loved him back, on a fucking dinner date.

He smoothed his hair down and leaned against the Impala, trying to quell his shaking hands.  _ Get it together, Winchester. _

He understood why Chrys wanted this, why she wanted this breath of normality in their relationship. Why she wanted them to just… Go on a date. His yearning to meet Mary, to see she and Chrys together, side-by-side, was almost overwhelming. But he was willing to wait. He could do this right, for Chrys.

Deciding to leave hunting hadn’t been that hard. He and Dean had just… Stopped. He was kind of surprised at how easy it had been. They had just come home, Dean to Lisa, and Sam to the guest bedroom in Dean and Lisa’s home.

He was hoping he wouldn’t be there for long.

When Chrys came down the steps of her apartment complex, all thoughts of anything but her completely fled his mind.

“God, you’re  _ gorgeous,” _ he breathed out.

She was wearing a midnight blue strapless dress. Her dark, lovely hair was draped over her shoulder, and her blue eyes were sparkling at him as she came to stand in front of him. She tugged at the collar on his shirt. “You don’t clean up too bad, yourself, Winchester.”

He tried to pull his head out of the gutter, even as the thought of that dress hitting the floor made him a little dizzy. “You ready for dinner?”

But she was eyeing the Impala. “Do you think we could both fit in that backseat?”

***

Two hours later, they were in a diner. Sam was wearing just his white t-shirt and jeans. Chrys had his white dress shirt draped around her shoulders, making her feel warm and safe.

Her body was buzzing with pleasure, and she smiled at him. “I’ve never been on one, so you’ll have to tell me if this counts as a normal date.”

He chuckled. “I, uh, I’ve never been in a date like this one.”

She smiled across the table, and everything fell into place for her. Sam was hers. She was his. It was as simple as that. And maybe their life would never be “normal,” but it was theirs. And there was just one thing missing.

“Let’s go home, Sammy.”

***

Sam waited nervously on the couch for Chrys to get home. He hadn’t thought he could be more nervous than he had been earlier that night. He could absolutely not have been more wrong.

The keys jingling in the door had him standing, then sitting back down, then deciding that standing was the way to go.  _ God dammit. _

When Dean came through the door first, he frowned. “What the hell?”

Dean chuckled. “Chill, little brother, just brought the girls home.”

He stepped inside, then a serious look came across his face. “Listen, Sam, when Mary does her pictures thing, it’s… Weird. It’s real freaky, if I’m being honest with you.” He pointed a finger. “Be goddamn nice to her about it. She’s a year old, and she’s a good girl.”

“Dean,” Chrys said severely from behind him. “Shut it, Sam will be fine. Out of the way.”

Dean grumbled and moved, and then everything that Sam knew before that exact moment fell away from him.

He met bright, happy blue eyes. She had a cloud of dark, thick hair, that made him think of his. She seemed tall for her age, which made sense, since both he and Chrys were rather tall, too.

_ Mary. _

The strangest sensation bloomed in his mind, a picture of himself. A younger version of himself, but a clear picture regardless. And a wave of curiosity.

“Hi, Mary,” he choked out, trying to control his emotions. “I’m, uh, Sam.”

Chrys rolled her eyes and walked to him, the baby on her hip. “Mary, sweetheart, this is Daddy. You remember Daddy?”

The picture drained from his mind as Mary looked up at Chrys. A moment of perfect, silent understanding passed between them. All while Sam drowned in the love he had for the two women in front of him.

Then Chrys smiled, and it was like the sun was rising. “Of course you can, baby.” She turned and shared that smile with Sam. “Do you want to hold her, Sammy?”

And, again, there was really only one answer. “Of course.”

***

Chrys lay in bed with Sam, her head on his shoulder. The baby was asleep on his chest, his big, warm hand on her back, rubbing gentle circles into their daughter’s skin. Chrys had allowed Mary to sleep in their bed this once, special circumstances and the whole bit.

“She’s beautiful, Chrys,” he said softly.

She smiled and kissed his shoulder, feeling full and complete for the first time since Sam had gone. “I know,” she whispered.

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re beautiful, too. I can’t…” There was a long silence, and she let him have it as he wrestled with his emotions. “I can’t believe we’re here.”

She smiled up at him. “We’re all right now, Sammy. We’re finally all right.”

***

Bobby kept hunting, but managed to live a long, full life. He was a heavy presence in Mary’s life, taking a grandfatherly role. He loved the baby very much, and she loved him. Bobby was the only person who never batted an eye at her abilities, he just accepted her. He was killed when Mary was a teenager by a werewolf in North Dakota. They held a hunter’s funeral for him. It was heavily attended.

Mary’s other grandparent, Grace Summers, died when she was a baby. She never got to meet her granddaughter, the last lucid moment she had was the one in which she’d bitten Chrys. The last words out of her mouth were her husband’s name. They held a hunter’s funeral for her, too. It was attended only by Sam, Chrys, and their daughter.

Castiel came around a couple of times, but Chrys never let him meet Mary. She never let go of her anger at him, despite him pulling Sam out of hell. As much as it upset Dean, she never made the angel feel welcome in her home. Chrys knew how to hold a grudge.

Dean, Lisa, and Ben lived the domestic life a few streets away from Chrys, Sam, and Mary. Dean got his job back at the construction company, and after a long, hard journey, he and Lisa made up. A few years later, Lisa got pregnant, and Sam got to watch Dean get teary-eyed over his own daughter. Her name was Isabella, and she had Lisa’s striking features with Dean’s green eyes.

Ben grew into a fine young man. Who wouldn’t, with the Winchesters as examples? He adored his baby cousin and his baby sister. He grew up to go to law school, following in Sam’s footsteps.

Dean and Lisa were married several years after their daughter was born, in a small ceremony. Chrys cried, and so did Dean, while Lisa and Sam laughed. Chrys and Sam watched Isabella and Ben while the newly married couple went on their honeymoon.

And that’s everyone.

***

Oh, except, of course, for Chrys, Mary, and Sam.

Chrys eventually bought the restaurant from her boss, who wanted to retire in Hawaii.  She ran it for several years, and made good enough money to stay home with her daughter most of the time.

Sam went back to law school and slowly earned his degree. During that time, he worked various odd jobs, but Chrys made enough money that he really didn’t have to make a whole lot. When he graduated, his woman and his teenage daughter came, took lots of pictures, and made gentle, loving fun of him.

They never had any more children, Mary was quite enough. When she hit puberty, her powers went wild for a while. A lot of uncomfortable images were pushed into Sam and Chrys’s heads until she got it under control. It was a time of much embarrassment for poor Mary.

After that, however, Mary blossomed. Her powers never got any stronger or weaker, so she mostly ignored them unless she was at home with her parents. She became a veterinarian, and made her parents proud.

Chrys and Sam never got around to getting married, but it didn’t bother them. He did, the year Mary turned six, present Chrys with a diamond ring at Christmas. She’d laughed and called him corny, but put it on and cried that night when they went to bed. She got him a plain gold band to wear on his own finger, and that was enough for the two of them.

They lived normal, boring, lovely lives. Some days were better than others. They both suffered depression, PTSD, and various other disorders. She was still kind of a bitch, and he could be kind of a bastard.

But at least they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, beautiful readers! Here are my notes:  
> I own only Chrys Summers, the original character. I don’t own Supernatural or any of the characters. (heartbroken)  
> Reviews, comments, and kudos give me life and keep me going.  
> And, as always, thank you for reading, you beautiful, beautiful people.  
> **What can I even say about "What Could Have Been?" I loved writing this alternate ending, it's nice to see poor Sam and Chrys get some peace. <3 I hope you all loved it as much as I did.


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